


Don’t Feel Anything

by ImperialTrash



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Coming Out, Friendship, Gen, Neuropathy, Slice of Life, allusion to addiction, everyone has a different reaction to things, i promise it isn’t so depressing, no violence besides training tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 12:31:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15995285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImperialTrash/pseuds/ImperialTrash
Summary: The neuropathy is starting to catch up to Finka. Doc finds out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Drug and addiction references

She clenched her fist, nothing in the palm or her digits.

 

Lera couldn’t feel her fingers. She couldn’t feel a fucking thing. 

 

Her heart began to race as she rushed to the bathroom, looking dreadfully in the mirror. The reflection showed a pale ghost, trembling from fear as her normally coiffed hair fell into strands over a now beaded forehead. The contents of her stomach backed up to her throat, instincts reaching for the toilet as she expelled. It was violent, sudden, more heaving and gags than actual vomit. She couldn’t even tell if she was gripping the toilet or not, her right hand completely devoid of feeling.

 

Lera sobered up, rising up from the toilet and wiping away the cold sweat. Exiting the bathroom she threw on a coat and stuffed her right hand into the pocket, taking the keys to the medical supplies in the R&D department. It was the dead of night, no one would be awake, except maybe for Ryad or an operator with night troubles.

 

She reached the door of the medical station and keyed the doorknob. Her hand kept missing the hole. 

 

“ _ Blyat _ , come on!” She grunted. Her hand was shaking too much. A deep breath and her aim steadied. The key slipped into its slot and twisted. 

 

The door slammed, Lera looking around for her workstation in a fit of worry. She sighed as she found her desk and all her new strains of the nanomachines, hidden in a silvery blue gel inside syringes. She took a needle, popping off the safety cap and injecting it into her left arm, making a crude tourniquet to find her veins. A vein found, a needle plunged, and a syringe emptied.

 

The sudden heightened feeling bloomed through her arm as temporary relief brought feeling into her arm. A sudden cold, clammy grip came to her fist, opening and closing to rush it. Then it became warm, normal temperature. The surge wore off, but the feeling in her arm stayed. Lera chuckled, a huge wash of relief coming over her.

 

She looked back at her hand, the feeling and movements feeling fleshed and comfortable. A wipe from other beads of nervous sweat left her laughing more, slowly growing stronger and uncontrollable. Then came the tears, and her smile turned into a frown. The chuckles turned into sobs, and she cried into the palm of her hand as the glass syringe broke in the other, gripping from pain and anger. She hated that she had to rely on this to survive, that she couldn’t control her goddamn body.

 

Lera broken cries echoed the empty room before she tossed the broken glass to the floor as her hand bled. She could feel it, the blood trickling down and the glass stuck inside the wounds. She gulped a ball of anxiety down and went to repair her hand at a first aid station. Lera wrapped bandages around her hand when the door to the office suddenly clicked.

 

Lera’s heart nearly stopped, and her hand stopped wrapping. She heard the familiar humming of Gustav’s French songs as he walked in, before they got close to her desk and ended. He stood in place and witness the scene of glass and blood on the chair. His voice was groggy, tired. “Lera, what’s going on?”

 

She remained silent, continuing to wrap her hand around her hand. “Got a little restless and decided to tweak some of the nanomachines, I had an accident.”

 

Gustav didn’t like the tone of voice she had. She sounded a bit shaken up, surprised that someone else was here in the room. He never saw her here this early before, an eager 4 o’clock in the morning. There was something off about it all. “What kind of accident? You can’t just break the syringe like that.”

 

“Believe me Doc, you don’t know how fragile things actually are,” she glanced at him with an eerie smile. There was something she’s hiding.

 

“Lera, what happened,” he got closer, putting a hand on her shoulder. “As your physician and friend, I must know if there’s anymore… complications.”

 

Lera was silent. His grip on her shoulder felt the sudden shakiness of her chest as she breathed in, trying not to let out a sob. She lifted her left hand, wiggling it around. “I woke up because I couldn’t feel the damn thing,” she smirked, tears streaming her arms as she lifted and slammed her hands down to her thighs. “And I rushed into the office trying to get another round, like a fucking  _ наркоман,  _ a junky.”

 

She breathed in and let out repressed hiccups. “I’m sorry Doc, I’m so sorry.”

 

Gustav swallowed, gripping his hands at her. He’s never seen her so damn vulnerable before, no one has really. He didn’t know what words to use-- if any. When he opened his mouth, it became dry and he couldn’t say anything. Even in all his years of breaking awful news to families and loved ones, seeing a teammate, a  _ friend _ , like this…

 

No words can be said. He simply stood still as she got up and walked passed him, her eyes reddened from exhaustion and tears. He turned around and saw her reach for the door when her hand began to quake. Her fist went into a repetitive cycle: closing and opening, closing and opening, like she was trying to grab something that wasn’t there. Lera didn’t say a word, but rather just stood still in front of the door, unmoving and unwavering. 

 

Gustav walked behind her slowly and turned her around. “We can do this together, Lera. Stay, please.”

 

Lera looked up and nodded, leaving the doorway and going into the annals of the office with Gustav’s hand wrapped around her back comforting her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finka decided to tell Tachanka as the first of many to eventually know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sasha and Lera are the diminutives of Alexsandr and Valeriya respectively. They’ll sometimes call each other these names through out the chapter. There’s some humor in this, just to lighten the mood a bit.

The soft ambience of the bar set a warm and cheery mood. It was a more cultivated one, having soft piano music playing while people dressed more eloquently, and the quality of the drinks more refined. Lera stirred her drink around with her hand, only little the little pricks of her typical symptoms present. Something that she was use to.

 

Alexsandr boisterous laugh was a result from talking with the bartender, whom seem to become friends from their time always drinking off-duty. His usual drink was prepared —a vodka tonic— and he turned to Lera. “How’s your day been Valeriya?”

 

“The same as always, Alexsandr. There hasn’t been much in terms of missions, now that we have more members,” she sighed, sipping some of her vodka. “Plus, I’m not in the mood for more combat.”

 

“Not like you have a choice,” Alexsandr husked, “we wouldn’t want to scar more of that beautiful face of yours.”

 

The ritual flirting always began when they both had their first sip. Usually she’d say something a bit more witty or flirty back, but the mood wasn’t there, it wasn’t why she invited him out drinking this night. Besides Doc, no one knew else about her neuropathy and how it’s finally decided to kick her in the crotch. 

 

She took another swig of her drink, wincing as the flavor reached down her throat. The courage had to be built up first.

 

Alexsandr frowned and and tilted his head a bit. Maybe this was more comfortable in her native tongue. “ _ Is everything fine Lera? You’re more quiet than usual _ .”

 

“ _ Just, there's some things going on Sasha. I was hoping we’d could talk about it but…” _

 

_ “...you haven’t got the gall to come out and say it, right? That’s why you’re drinking a bit more than usual.” _

 

She smiled at him. He really knew her well. “ _ Yes, that’s the short end of it. _ ”

 

Alexsandr looked away and stirred his own drink. “ _ So, what is it? _ ”

 

Lera took in a deep sigh, rubbing her eyes to prepare and un-stress herself. “ _ I have something called Neuropathy, Sasha. It’s a debilitating nerve disease that makes everything… ache and lose feeling. I also have a…”  _ she took another swig of her vodka. “  _...a slow degeneration of muscles in my extremities. It isn’t as severe as my neuropathy but, it’s there. _ ”

 

Alexsandr stopped stirring and simply stared down at his glass. She saw him swallow something in his throat, and turned himself towards her. He grabbed her smaller, delicate hand that was made even smaller by his calloused ones. “ _ How long have you had it? _ ”

 

“ _ Since I was a child, _ ” she explained, “ _ I stayed fit and it wasn’t even noticeable until recently, when i couldn’t feel the entirety of my left hand a few days ago. I just get small prickling feelings now, that’s common, but it’s been… it’s been scary. _ ”

 

Alexsandr was normally a jolly man, with a jolly expression that put Santa Claus to shame. But right now, seeing him so distraught made her wince. “ _ Who else knows _ .”

 

“ _ Until recently, Six and Doc _ ,” she took the last swig of her drink. “ _ Now you. _ ”

 

He nodded slightly, acknowledging all the news that came to him. Alexsandr motioned be bartender and told him something she couldn’t catch, and the man made another glass for Lera. Alexsandr looked away and took another drink of his tonic. If she knew no better, seeing a stoic face on him would make her think that he was indifferent. That couldn’t be more wrong. “ _ Sasha, are you alright. _ ”

 

“I think it’s time for us to go, Valeriya,” he simply stated, paying a bill. “We need get back home.”

 

Lera knew that, just from the sudden quivers in his face muscles that he tried not to look sad. He probably thought that Lera needed no pity or sympathy, it wouldn’t do anything worthwhile for her. Alexsandr stood up and left the bar, leaving a simple 50 pound banknote to the bar. Lera followed suit, finding their parked car just a few measly feet from the parking lot. They both got in and didn’t say a word the entire drive back to base.  

 

Alexsandr suddenly stopped at the gate. He turned towards Lera and smiled warmly at her. “Thank you for telling me Lera. I know it’s not easy for such news.”

 

“Alexsandr, I trust you enough to handle it,” Lera smiled. “We’ve been friends for a long time now, and I wish that we’d be closer…”

 

Her hand crept slowly over to his chest, a small blush coming to her face. Lera hoped that he’s reciprocate but he simply grabbed her hand and squeezed it softly, putting it back to her lap.

 

It stung, this rejection. She looked away and stared dumbfounded at the windshield. Did she not find her attractive anymore, now that he knows about her condition? She was going to say something to him until he saw her reach into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. Alexsandr’s large fingers worked nimbly to bring out an ancient looking Polaroid, featuring a younger Alexsandr and another man. “Who know who that is?”

 

Lera furrowed her brow, focusing on the photo. “I can recognize you, but I don’t know who the other is.”

 

Alexsandr took the photo away, admiring it. “That is Pytor, he was my best friend when I was younger. We joined the Army together.”

 

Lera stayed silent, listening. 

 

“We’ve been through so much together, and it made me realized that…” he paused, sighing. “It made me realized that I loved him, and he loved me, but not the same way that I wanted him to.”

 

What did he—oh. That’s what he meant. Lera was a little shocked, her eyes going wide and a heavy blush coming to her face. “B-but, I’ve seen you with women before.”

 

“I didn’t say I wasn’t attracted to women, Lera,” he chuckled. “I think the term is bisexual, but with all these new names for gay people and such I don’t know honestly. Pyotr didn’t survive the war, that nearly killed me. At that point I didn’t care that I lived or die, but I was just too damn good at what I do to die.”

 

Lera looked away and took in this information, breaking it down to her head. So he was attracted to her, but why did he tell her this?

 

“Alexsandr, why did you tell me this?”

 

“Because,” he started, shoving the picture away. “I wanted to tell you a secret that only a select amount know. To show that I have just as much secrets and know that my friends will never look at me different. That’s how I feel about you.”

 

Her face was a bit downtrodden. “Only as a friend?”

 

He let a soft laugh escape. “Just because I flirt with you doesn’t mean I like you, I flirt with every woman, and any man that catches my eye. Besides, you’re too young and inexperienced.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

Alexsandr drove into the base. “Aren’t you a virgin?”

 

Lera quickly whipped around blushed deeply. How the hell did he know that?! Was it that obvious. “H-how did you know?”

 

Alexsandr smiles and stepped out of the car. He let out the famous deep laugh of his, opening the door for her to step out. “You just told me.”

 

Lera groaned, his laugh only intensified as they went towards the barracks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave comments below


End file.
